


The Middle Man

by laptopsnuggler



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:48:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24033031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laptopsnuggler/pseuds/laptopsnuggler
Summary: Lily Potter made a small mistake at the beginning of her marriage; having a child with Sirius Black. On the night of her murder, her son Harry was swept away by Rubeus Hagrid. However, her other son, Alexander, was gathered up by Lucius Malfoy and hidden away until the Dark Lord began his return. He was raised around and trained into the dark arts and fought with the Dark Lord, but ended up in Azkaban after the Battle at the Ministry of Magic after watching his father die. But, he has escaped...
Relationships: Sirius Black/Lily Evans Potter
Kudos: 1





	1. Unsteady

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, this is my first fan fiction in a very long time. I've been sitting with this idea for about 3 years now and finally decided to put her out there. Let me know how you feel and I'll slowly add more.

Alexander landed on the steps of Snape’s attic with unsteady feet, still stunned from the fact that he had just escaped from Azkaban. Calling the feat impossible was an understatement. He sat on the wooden step and tried to collect his scattered thoughts. His brain had completely scrambled throughout the last 24 hours. 

Deciding it was impossible to completely regain his sanity, he moved quietly on to the second floor of the house. Every noise made him jump. He made it into his old bedroom without a problem. Nearly everything was the same except the belongings. Everything he’d left behind had been eradicated and replaced with Peter Pettigrew’s. Why on earth was Pettigrew living with Snape? He moved a rug in front of the bed and pried up a loose floorboard that had been there since he was a child. In the crevice resided an old pair of glasses, a ratty t-shirt, a quill, and few books. He put on the glasses and his vision instantly cleared. He hadn’t had them for the entirety of his stay in prison. He removed the old pair and placed them back under the floor. Snape would know he’d been there if they went missing. He’d figured out how to survive without them anyway. After moving the carpet back, he moved onto his old master’s bedroom. Snape’s room was a disaster, him no longer having someone he trusted to clean it for him. Alexander stepped over and around discarded shoes and robes mixed with books, parchment, and broken quills. Nothing in here that he could use. He began to move towards the staircase when he heard the murmur of voices. He pressed himself against the wall. Could this be his moment to escape and not get caught? He knew he couldn’t apparate out of the house. Someone would hear him and he would be found out in one way or another. 

Besides, he didn’t even know where to go. Nearly everyone he knew had already assumed he was dead. He deciphered the voices of Severus Snape, Bellatrix Lestrange, and Narcissa Malfoy. The sound of the door snapping shut resonated around him. He began his descent of the stairs ever so carefully. The hallway that encased them was so dark he could barely see his own hand in front of his face. Fortunately for him, the staircase was hidden behind a wall. However he did not remember exactly where this staircase let out. Suddenly, he heard breathing near him. He pressed himself against the wall once more, praying to god that whoever stood there hadn’t heard him. He silently stepped upwards and away from the person who still missed his presence. At the exact moment he moved back, the hidden door swung open. The light allowed him to see Wormtail standing there, looking defeated. He moved out of the room and the door shut once more. He let out his breath and leaned against the wall, attempting to make a plan. He couldn’t go out via this door unless Snape and his company moved into the kitchen or somewhere else in the house. He knew all of the windows were shut permanently with magic as a deterrent to burglars. He began to wring his sweaty hands. Was his best option to ask for help? Pretend he was clueless about everything that had happened in the last few months? Pretend his mark hadn’t been burning the entire time? And if that didn’t work, beg for mercy? No, he couldn’t break that easily. He had pride. He used to have purpose. He had a relative amount of dignity left, although having an Azkaban prisoner number on the back of his neck didn’t help. He sighed, frustrated. As he let out his breath, the hidden door opened once more, Wormtail nearly falling inside. He tried to hide against the wall, but he stayed directly in front of the door, obviously eavesdropping. A loud bang sounded and he began to scurry up the stairs. Alexander tried to blend into the wall. Unfortunately, the small oaf managed to stumble into him, tripping over his leg and falling face first into the carpet. He looked bewildered as he realized whom he’d just fallen over. 

“You, my boy, have a lot of explaining to do.” He said, grinning his pointy toothed grin as he pulled Alex to his feet by his shirt collar and dragged him down the steps and out of the door to the sitting room where Severus was entertaining. “Snape, I hate to interrupt you, but I’ve found a stowaway on the stairs.” He threw Alex in front of the potions master and his guests, causing the boy’s face to hit the hardwood. The three death eaters in the room looked astonished at his appearance. 

Severus stood and walked slowly around Alex. He seemed to be observing every inch of his thin, disheveled form. Alex tried to pick himself up from the carpet, but Bellatrix kicked him down again, stomping her heel into his chest. He moaned in agony, already having a broken rib and several bruised from his prison sentence. All three surrounded him now, Wormtail having disappeared around the corner. Once again, he was flipped, this time on his front and his hands were bound behind him. He was forced to stand, and when he made it up, he was pushed against a wall by Bellatrix. 

“You’re alive? Where were you hiding? Why didn’t you come back to your master?” She screeched in his ear, wand to his throat and hand pulling on his hair. Severus silenced her with a hand and walked calmly over to Alex. He then proceeded to shove a gag in his mouth and dragged him to the radiator in the other corner. He untied Alex’s hands and reattached the rope to the appliance.   
“You will remain still and silent until I am finished with my company. Then we will discuss….this. I suggest sleeping if you can. You likely won’t get much of it soon.” He rose, smashed his foot into the side of his head, and seated his guests and himself. Alex crumpled, everything fading to black.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
As Bellatrix and Narcissa were escorted out by Wormtail, Alexander awoke and began to fidget incessantly, attempting to gain Snape’s attention. He smirked and began to untie Alex from the radiator. He removed the gag, and Alex swallowed hard. His previous master allowed him to stand, and they stared at each other.  
“Why didn’t you return?” He asked after an uncomfortable three minute silence.

“I had nothing to return for, sir.”

“Does loyalty mean nothing to you, boy?”

“Does it mean anything to you?”

That silenced him. He knew there was truth to Alex’s statement, but he still wanted to deny his wrong doing.

“Why don’t you want to go back? That man practically raised you as his own.”

“It doesn’t mean I ever loved him, sir. I never cared about him. He never cared about me. I was his servant, nothing more than that. He couldn't care less if I am dead or alive.”

“You’ll soon find that to be entirely untrue. You’re going back, whether you want to or not. He believes you to be dead, and it is not wise to lie to the Dark Lord, as you know. Hasn’t your mark been burning?”

Alex slid up his jacket sleeve to look at the swirling skull and snake that had been burned into his flesh the day he turned eleven. It had been burning constantly, a never ending reminder of those to whom he belonged and the one who he served. 

“He’s been calling you, Alexander, hoping you’ll return. It’s time you did that.”

“I won’t go willingly. I can’t go back to the torture, not for a while. I can’t live like that. You’ll have to drag me kicking and screaming, sir.”

“You belong to him, Alexander, no matter what you think of it. You are his most loyal servant, and he wants you back. I will call him here, have you tied up like a nice pretty package when he arrives. It’ll be like Christmas came early. I’ll punish you before he arrives. Make sure that he knows you weren’t welcomed here. Where is your wand?”

Alex reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a slender oak wand, powered by a single hair from a unicorn tail. Snape attempted to reach for it, but he pulled away. 

“Fight me like a gentleman. If you wish to have my wand, don’t be so rude.”

He slapped Alex across the face as hard as he could.

“Don’t disrespect me,” He growled, kicking Alex to the ground once more, “I can make this much more difficult on you.” He began casting jinx after jinx and curse after curse at Alex, causing him to yelp in pain. After 15 minutes of suffering, he relented, leaving Alexander cowering on the floor. He snatched up Alex’s wand, twirling it in his fingers. He placed it in his robes and tied Alex to the radiator again, replacing the gag as well. 

“I suppose I’ll call your master now. He’ll take care of you, you insolent fool.” He stormed from the room, leaving Alex in a messy puddle of his own blood. He hung helplessly from the metal appliance. 

The crack of apparition sounded from the kitchen, along with the murmuring of voices and footsteps towards the sitting room. The Dark Lord rounded the corner, his lips spreading into a terrifying smile as he made his way towards Alexander. Voldemort kneeled next to him, taking up his face in his left hand, examining Alex closely. Severus stood behind him, his face an emotionless mask. 

“Hello, my young Mr. Black. Have you missed me? I see Severus here has punished you for your wrongdoing, Once your master, always your master, I suppose,” He turned to Snape, “how did you find him?’”

“He was eavesdropping from my staircase when Wormtail tumbled over him. He brought him to me, and I took care of him until you arrived, my lord.”

“Good, Severus, good. I will take him with me now, decide his fate and punishment, and notify you when a decision has been made.” He rose, dragging Alex upward by his hair. The ropes unfastened from the radiator but back around Alex’s wrists before I could make a move. “You have his wand, Severus?” Snape handed it to him, “Let’s go Black, while I’m still feeling slightly merciful.” He grabbed Alex around the waist and they apparated.


	2. In Pain

Alexander was tossed onto the floor of his old bedroom by a man he did not know, presumably a new Death Eater. He groaned as he crawled to his bed, which seemed to be a million miles away. He managed to force himself upright and onto the mattress. His injuries were extensive. He had known about the previously broken ribs but couldn’t fix it without his wand. His arms were scraped and bruised worse than he’d ever seen, as were his legs. A few of his fingers were bent at angles that didn’t seem quite normal. He had a nasty, still bleeding gash across his forehead and another along his cheek. 

He stood up slowly, heading for the first aid drawer that Narcissa had always kept fully stocked of various essentials for living with Voldemort. His right leg throbbed as he limped across the room. He gathered ace bandages and bandaids and found his way back to the bed. Bandaging himself up took quite a bit of effort but he managed eventually. He laid back against the pillow and surveyed his room. 

The walls were still grey, unmarked and unchanged. His desk laid in the corner, covered in books, quills, and parchment from his previous year at Hogwarts. His dresser was neat and bare, lacking the mementos and sentimental pleasures that most would enjoy. The bed on which he sat was old with an antique metal frame, painted white, like the rest of his furniture. A pile of fresh laundry from the last time he’d been here resided on his desk chair. On his nightstand lay a small stack of books, a notebook, and a few muggle writing utensils. He hadn’t been here since Christmas, but it looked as though he’d never left. 

Suddenly, the door swung open, interrupting Alex’s thoughts. A tall, pale, blonde haired boy came rushing in.

“Alexander Black. Where the hell have you been?” He enthused with a large smile. 

“Draco Malfoy.” He smiled and sat down next to Alex. Draco leaned in to kiss him, but Alex put up his hand to stop him. Draco looked at him curiously.

“Too much blood.” He sighed and moved away. “Sorry.” 

“Well, answer dear boy, before I get impatient.” He persisted, dragging Alex across his lap. Alex glanced around nervously, his long bothersome paranoia setting in. 

“I..uh...I had to run after the attack on the Ministry. Seeing both sides at once scared me. I didn’t know what I wanted; to be a good little boy and go back to my master or to try and change and go with my brother and the Order. As soon as the authorities showed up, I bolted. Never in my life have I been so scared.” He stopped to spit some blood into the trash can. 

“You still haven’t told me exactly where you were. Or why you left me in particular. I just want to know that you were okay," Draco said quietly.

Alex wiped off his mouth and began to speak when his door swung open once more.

“Alexander, the Dark Lord would like you to get cleaned up and see him in the drawing room as soon as possible.” Narcissa looked at Alex and her son uncomfortably and then left without another word. 

“Is she still unhappy about this?” Alex asked, referring to Draco’s recent “change” in sexuality, as it was referred to in Malfoy Manor. 

“My father is, well, was, so therefore, she is. But now that my father is gone, I can actually be in a relationship.” He bent down and kissed Alex, ignoring the remaining blood.

“Now let’s get you cleaned up. You certainly look like you’ve been to hell and back.” Draco helped him limp down the hall into the bathroom. “Do you need any help?” He began to lift up Alex’s shirt to reveal his protruding ribs and nearly concave stomach. Alex pulled his top down and shook his head. He had to ignore the obvious bulge in both of their trousers and not allow Draco to worry about why he looked like this. 

“Just lay out some clothes for me, will you? Jeans, t-shirt, robes, the works. I love you.” Alex pushed him out the door and locked it behind him. 

Cranking up the shower to full heat, he took off his shirt and examined his upper body. What Alex hadn’t told Draco was that he’d spent the last three months of his life in Azkaban. At the end of the Ministry altercation, he’d been seized by aurors and taken into custody. He’d been starved, tortured, beaten, and interrogated. They locked him away in maximum security and kept him under constant surveillance. Alex had managed a daring escape, having turned various dementors into allies via his dark mark, though having to avoid thousands more. It shouldn’t have been hard to tell Draco, but it felt nearly impossible. 

Alex’s entire body was now covered in scars and bruises. His black hair had grown to an unkempt, almost shoulder length mess, filled with dirt and filth. He resembled his late father in his teenage years, awkwardly tall, with limbs too long and a mess of dark hair. He, however, knew how to carry himself and actually survive. Alex was just managing to stumble through existence, being led by the noose that Lord Voldemort had placed around his neck at a young age. 

Alex shook the reminiscing and finished undressing. He stepped into the steaming shower and sighed in relief. The closest he’d been to clean in the last few months was a quick dip in a stream that was unintentionally taken while fully clothed and running from a group of ministry wizards assigned to his recapture. The dirt rinsed from his body, slowly swirling down the drain. The grease and grime dripped out of his hair, discoloring the tile beneath him. He spent five extra minutes in the steam, trying to wash away the memories of what happened in Azkaban. He switched off the tap and wrapped a towel around his waist. His feet tread as quietly as they could with his lagging right leg.

He made it into his room once more, shut the door, and smiled a little at the clothes Draco had laid out for him. 

They were, of course, Draco’s favorite items of clothing Alex owned. He slipped into the navy blue boxers and pulled a dark grey v-neck over his wet hair. The jeans were a bit harder as his right leg protested endlessly. All of Alex’s clothing was unfortunately loose. He dug around in my dresser for a belt that fit, coming up empty handed. With the addition of the robes, he looked like an ill-made scarecrow. He struggled with my shoes, his leg further aching and his broken fingers fumbling with the laces. He ran his fingers through his damp hair, brushing the fringe from his eyes and forehead as best he could. He then departed to his meeting with his master.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------  
“Crucio!” Alex screamed out in agony. His body lay crippled on the floor of the drawing room. Voldemort stood over him, grinning devilishly. For one excruciating hour, he tortured Alex incessantly. From the moment he had entered the room, Voldemort had pulled his wand on him and began shooting curse after curse. Now, the Dark Lord had stopped. He allowed Alex to stand properly. Alex’s breathing was heavy and shallow. He ached all over. Even his brain was sluggish. All he knew was that in that moment, he wanted his life to end as quickly and painlessly as possible. 

“Well my boy, aren’t we going to exchange pleasantries? After all, it has been quite a while.” Voldemort mused, still half-smiling. 

“My lord,” Alex bowed deeply, but begrudgingly, “I beg to serve you.”

“Good boy,” His hand grazed the top of Alex’s head and he felt his mark scorch his skin, “now, where on Earth have you been? Straighten up!” Alex shot straight up and launched into his lengthy tale of woe, describing each horror in vivid detail until he was silenced. The smile had been replaced by stone. 

“Did you answer their questions honestly?”

“No sir. They seemed to be unaware of the effectiveness of veritaserum on a convict. Although the use of it on a minor is technically illegal. And they asked the wrong questions. Rather indecisive really.”

“Well then I suppose you have truly done nothing wrong. However, I will still punish you. For all of my purposes, you are a deserter and shall be treated as such, if not worse. For the last several hours, ways of torture for you have been thought over. I thought perhaps I could put you in a full body bind and allow each of my death eaters to take a proper shot at you, as I know they long to. I’d thought of wiping your memory clean and sending you off to the Order of the Phoenix with a note that said “Good Luck.” I’d thought of simply forcing you into another year at Hogwarts, taking mundane classes and being forced to be a good little boy, as I know you hate. But none of these are demeaning enough. They wouldn’t injure your pride as I’d like them to. It took much thought to uncover what would truly murder your self-worth. I did figure it out, my boy. You are to be a servant for a month, at minimum. No pay, little food, demeaning jobs, and the utmost of obedience. For the next long while, you are no longer a member of this house. You cater to the needs of everyone around you. You are a slave, to keep it to the point. As always, you belong to me, first and foremost. The Malfoys and Madame Lestrange come second. Anyone else, though there shouldn’t be many others, comes last. After that, you may be given to Severus until he believes you have fully repented. You will begin tomorrow morning. Now before I ask you to exit my presence, I will heal you. Most employers, in this profession at least, don’t appreciate damaged goods. I will be leaving the scars as a reminder. Sit yourself on the table, Alexander.” 

Alex did as he was ordered, fuming. He felt immense relief as his bones were mended and his gashes closed. Although the scars remained, the pain was mostly gone. When he was motioned at to go, Alex remained.

“Yes Alexander?”

“My lord, I know it is a lot to ask, but may I have my wand back?”

“Did I neglect to mention the final part of your punishment? No magic.”

“But sir! A month without my wand?”

“It will be longer if you continue to protest. Remember, I could have killed you outright. This is my mercy for you. After you repent, you will be accepted back into my ranks as my right hand once more, I swear. Now go get some sleep, Alexander. You have a rough month ahead of you.” 

Alex nodded and bowed, exiting the room.


	3. Uncomfortable

Draco was leaning against the wall, waiting for Alex. He smiled when he saw Alex walking properly and without blood on his face. Draco wrapped his arm around Alex’s shoulders, and Alex wrapped his around his waist. They walked in silence to Draco’s room, where they knew they wouldn’t be bothered. He opened the door to his almost all black bedroom and sat down on the bed. Alex laid on the rug that sat on the hardwood and stretched out, moaning in pain from his sore muscles.

“What happened in there? After the screaming from the first hour, you two quieted down. I assume you were going down hard on each other?” Draco joked. Alex swatted at his dangling legs playfully, “but really, Alex, what happened?”

“He tortured me for an hour. Cruciatus curses, conjunctivitis curses, the works for a general punishment. Nothing I haven’t felt before. Don’t give me that look. I’m fine, he healed me before I left.” “Was that your only punishment?”

Alex laughed bitterly, “Have you met the Dark Lord? Of course that’s not it. Call your father because the Malfoy family’s got a new servant for a month. Then I might be ‘given’ to Snape. Like a goddamn present.”

“Wait, wait, wait, hang on. What do you mean we’ve got a new servant? He wouldn’t do that to you would he?”

“He told me he wanted something that killed my pride. Something demeaning that would ‘murder my self worth.’ So prepare yourself for a month of me being excruciatingly polite and obedient. Not to mention that I’ll have to call you ‘sir’.”

“I don’t know if I’m okay with that. Like I think it actually makes me uncomfortable. My boyfriend calling me ‘sir’ and catering to my every whim. However nice it’ll be to have someone who isn’t a house elf, I can’t watch you in pain like that.”

“Well, don’t let on to it. He doesn’t know we’re together, remember? In fact, I’ve told him we actively despise each other. It’s not like he pays attention to anything but himself. So you have to really pretend to enjoy this. Be a real dick to me around him. Call me by my full name for once. Order me around. You’ll just have to get used to it.”

He swallowed hard, “Okay, if you’re okay with it. Do I have to...hit you and stuff like that?”

“I don’t know. Follow by example. I would assume that you will, at least in front of people. We can kiss and makeup later. I won’t be offended. It’s all in my job description.”

“Can we have one last night together as boyfriends before that all happens?”

“Do you really think I’m in the mood to fuck tonight?”

“No, no I assumed you wouldn’t be. I just mean cuddling and stuff like that.”

“Jesus, when did you become such a softie? Last year I was dating Slytherin stud and certified asshole Draco Malfoy. Now I leave for three months and I come back to a big sad looking mess who may be sexy but is also a bit whiny.”

“Just get up here before I have to drag your pale white ass up here.”

“That’s my boy.”

Alex climbed onto the bed next to his pale haired boy. He wrapped his arms around Draco and stared at the wall, listening to him talk but not answering. Alex was too nervous for the days to come. He was well aware and far too familiar with Voldemort being a difficult master. He had a million scars to prove it. This was not a journey he expected to take, and he certainly wasn’t prepared for it.

After waiting over an hour for Draco to drift off, Alex pried himself from his grasp and escaped to his room. His shoes were kicked off, as he took off his pants and shirt. He turned on my lamp. There was a parcel on his bed. He untied the strings and allowed the wrapping to fall aside. Inside was what seemed to be a set of dress robes. Alex slowly removed the contents; a long black robe, black dress pants, a white dress shirt, a black vest, a black tie, and black shoes. A note lay under it all: Just to make it worse. More instruction will be brought to you in the morning.~Master. Alex threw down the uniform in disgust and slid onto the floor. He didn’t want this to be real. It seemed like an insane nightmare that wouldn’t end. The Dark Lord wanted to crush his spirit. He knew Alex could never escape now. Once he destroyed his mind, he had hold on him forever. Alex’s willpower wasn’t exceedingly strong anymore. He was being brainwashed into being the Dark Lord’s greatest weapon. Alex knew he was allowing it. He couldn’t stop it at this point. Maybe if he’d had a childhood with actual parents he could’ve survived. But no. He then realized just how exhausted he was. Alex checked my watch that he’d somehow managed to keep through all of his trials and tribulations. Two thirty in the morning. He let out a sigh and climbed into bed, hoping he would wake up anywhere but here.

\------------------------------------------------------------

“ALEXANDER BLACK!” Alex nearly fell out of his bed as the Dark Lord shouted his name.

“Good morning sir. Ever heard of this pleasantry called whispering?”

Alex squinted in the daylight streaming from my window.

“Back to your old sarcasm, I see?”

“It never left, sir, I promise.”

“Best not being doing that while on duty, boy. I’ll let you off since you just woke up. Now, on my orders, you are to shower, dress, eat, and meet me in the study. If you deviate from these plans even slightly, punishment will be inflicted. Am I understood?”

“Yes my lord, however, I do have a question.” Voldemort gave Alex a look that said _don’t push it_ but he went for it anyway,

“I am formally 17 now, a man by most wizarding respects.”

“What are you suggesting, Black? I don’t have time for your foolishness.”

“I’m merely suggesting that the term ‘boy’ is derogatory.”

“And what would you prefer? ‘Meaningless idiot that I keep alive for no reason’ sounds pretty good to me. Or how about ‘pointless bastard….’”

“I’ll stick with ‘boy’ sir, thank you very much for your time.”

“You have one hour, Black.” He slammed Alex’s door.

Lovely start to his morning.

He stretched and looked in the mirror. The two large scars on his face were unfortunately prominent. His chest was covered with tender pink odds and ends protruding from the skin. The clothes lay where he had dropped them previously. He began putting them on, feeling his dignity decrease by the second. He tucked the shirt into the pants and buttoned up the vest. He surveyed his unfinished attire and felt an even deeper depression.

_"Boy, would my father be proud of me," he sighed, "All indebted for life to the man who killed his best friends and now him."_

He was disappointed in Alex before his death, and Alex was sure he would be that way for eternity as he continued to subject himself to Voldemort’s will. He tied the tie and put on the robes. He yanked a brush painfully through my hair and headed for the kitchen where he assumed a minimal amount of food would be waiting. He was proven right as a house elf handed him a small platter that contained toast with a glass of water.

He stood at the counter and ate, not wanting to risk more people seeing him than necessary. He felt ridiculous in this costume. Somehow, it managed to fit even his newly attained small form. It was uncomfortable to wear so much clothing, counterproductive even. Forget the formality of it all, it was just not functional. Alex fantasized about various ways to kill his master as he finished eating and even as he made his way into the study. What awaited him gave him even more reason to expand this fantasy. Narcissa, Bellatrix and Draco were all seated in the room, staring at him. The women gasped slightly when he walked in. Alex couldn’t help but notice Draco’s trousers tighten again in the front as he looked me over, smirking. Voldemort sat behind Lucius Malfoy’s desk, smiling at Alex’s obvious discomfort.

“Well boy,” he began, putting emphasis on the second word, “here are your new masters, in addition to myself and Severus eventually. You are to be obedient, patient, and non-argumentative. To ensure this, everyone will be watching you. Anything you do will be reported to me, and I will decide on your punishment. Take at look at your future because this is it.” Alex sighed and nodded, looking at the floor.

_"And so my saga of misery continues," He thought._

“My lord,” Bellatrix rose and picked up Alex’s head in her hand, scrutinizing his every flaw, “are we allowed to change anything of his….physical appearance?” Alex’s eyes opened wide as he jerked his head from her grip. What on earth did she have in mind?

“Such as what, Bellatrix?” Voldemort asked.

“His hair is far too long. He looks like an escaped convict. Also these scars are much too unappealing.”

“The scars will stay. They are a reminder to him of what happens when he disobeys me. I personally think his hair suits his personality. He did escape Azkaban after all. He looks like his father, in fact. Draco, do you have an opinion?”

“Sir?” Draco looked up, clearly having not been paying attention.

“What do you think of his hair?” Draco raised his eyebrows at the odd question.

“It’s a bit long, but it looks fine. He is an escaped convict, so it fits.” The Dark Lord nodded approvingly.

“Do not change a thing, Bellatrix, at least not without my consent. Draco, until now you’ve been quiet. Do you not find it satisfying to have someone whom you so despise under your power completely?”

Draco swallowed hard. The boys locked eyes. Alex was hoping his said something along the lines of “ _ milk it and tell him how much we hate each other, maybe even kick me if you can” _ . Draco nodded slightly, and Alex prayed he understood.

“It’s fantastic, my lord. I’m so quiet because I’m just in shock. I feel like I’ve won our little battle, would you agree, Alexander?” Alex said nothing, allowing him to continue, “I personally believe he and I will have quite a bit of fun, when we get down to it.” He reached his leg out and kicked the inside of Alex’s knee quite hard, causing him to half fall to the floor, but catching himself before he could go completely down. Voldemort smiled a little, clearly pleased with Draco’s response.

“Draco, Narcissa, and Bellatrix, you may all go. Alexander, stay.” I\Alex remained in his crouching position with his eyes downward until everyone had exited the room, “Stand up, fool.” Voldemort stood as he said this. Alex rose quickly to his feet, still keeping his eyes down.

“You are to remain with me today. Boring stuff as per usual, some death eaters to discipline, and then of course your training…”  
“My training, sir?”

“Yes, Alexander. Do you think just because I’ve stuck you in dress robes doing muggle jobs, I’m going to neglect your education? Someone has to be around to be the next me, if necessary. You aren’t my top choice, but you are the most like me,” He seemed to have a moment of nostalgia, but shook it quickly, “anyway, after I am finished with you, Draco apparently requires your assistance with something. Then you are available to anyone. Any questions?”

“Just one, sir. Are there any limits on my speech? I ask because I don’t want to be reprimanded for something I didn’t know wasn’t allowed.”

“Smart question, Black. I was hoping to catch you off guard. You are not to speak unless spoken to, as per usual. No sarcasm, it’s rude. In fact, maybe you just shouldn’t open your mouth at all. There is a spell for that, isn’t there? One Severus created, I believe. Alexander, if you know, tell me. I know he taught you majority of his knowledge.”

“I do not know the exact name, sir, however I do know the incantation.  _ Langlock _ .” 

“Good. I won’t use it now, but I will certainly keep that in mind. One more thing before we go, I forgot to bind you to the family last night. Remove your shirt.”

“Sir?”

“Do as I say, Alexander!” Alex stripped as quickly as he could, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. He looked at Alex’s scarred, tattooed chest and motioned for him to turn. Alex faced the wall and felt Voldemort’s cold fingers trace the tattoo of his prisoner number from Azkaban and the mark that bound Alex to him as a servant that had been placed when he’d been delivered to him as a child and the accompanying mark from Severus when I had been in his ownership. 

“Turn to face me.” Alex obeyed, facing my master once more. He placed his wand in the center of Alex’s chest and muttered a spell. An inky mist trickled from his wand and onto Alex’s skin, forming the Malfoy family crest. The mark shone like fresh ink. It began to burn, making Alex grimace slightly. “You are now formally bound to the Malfoy family. When your time here is completed, I will remove the mark to your back as the other ones have been. Redress quickly and meet me in the hall.” Voldemort swept from the room, slamming yet another door.

Alex sunk into the chair behind him, head in his hands. He was now officially an object in this house. He stood again and dressed slowly, careful to avoid the new burning mark on his chest. He wondered what Draco would say if he saw this. Would he know what it meant? All he would see would be his mark on Alex’s chest. Did he know that it meant Alex could be bound to him for life in servitude? Would he care? The physical marking would never go away. 

Someone banged on the door, a signal to hurry up. Alex shrugged on the robes and quickly re-tied the tie. He opened the door to see the face of his master.

“How long does it take to put your clothes back on?” He sneered, “let’s go. We have work to do.” He grabbed the end of the tie and pulled Alex along with him, choking him painfully. Alex gagged but kept up the pace. He managed to choke out the words, 

“My lord, where are we going?”

“You need not know or care. We will apparate directly in. You are able to apparate, correct?”

“Legally, yes. Physically, probably not. Magical ability-wise, yes.”

He sighed, “Side-along then, I suppose. We have to go outside the house to apparate, the protection charms and all that. Is it raining?”

“Shouldn’t be, sir.”

“Pity.” He let go of Alex’s tie, allowing him to walk on my own with him nearly gliding in front of me. They weaved through the many staircases and floors of Malfoy Manor. Once retheyached the atrium, he stopped, causing Alex to almost stumble into him. 

“ _ Petrificus Totalus.  _ I’ll be right back.” Alex laid on the floor, unable to move and feeling like an idiot. The Dark Lord returned with a length of rope. He rolled Alex onto his face and wrenched his arms behind him, tying his wrists. 

_ “Asshole,” _ Alex thought. His joints began to loosen and he was commanded to stand.

“Let’s go Black.” He yanked on the rope and Alex followed him out the door and into the grounds. 


	4. Truth Will Out

The next three weeks were an unimaginable hell. It wasn’t the torture that made it so bad. It was Alex’s lack of ability to be obedient or even care for that matter. The Dark Lord managed to make his life worse than it already was. He had to follow him almost constantly, catering to his every pathetic whim. He dreamed up the most idiotic requests, sending Alex sprinting around the manor for no reason at all. Narcissa and Bellatrix seemed to enjoy having a new servant. There was a small amount of pity for Alex in Narcissa’s eyes, but she blinked it away anytime he came near. He was forced to do the most mundane of tasks, muggle housework especially, without magic. When he’d belonged to Severus, he had done the same things, but it had been so long and brought back painful memories. He had never dreamed that he’d be doing laundry and scrubbing floors for the Malfoys. It was especially hard with Draco. He tried his hardest to claim Alex’s time at night, pretending he needed me for small little things. But the Dark Lord always kept them in his sight, potentially beginning to suspect their relationship. Draco then, of course, had to treat Alex like his servant, something he hated more than anything else. Alex didn’t mind though, it wasn’t his fault. They could usually find a time, or at least 30 seconds, to kiss and makeup. He would apologize incessantly until Alex stopped him. He knew it would all be over soon. Just one more week of torture and abuse. He had done his best to be obedient, he really had. There was no way it hadn’t been noticed by at least someone. He couldn’t be sent to Severus if he was perfectly obedient. No matter how hard it was, he had to survive this next week without incident. 

……………………………………………………………………………………….

On the first day of his final week, he was working on the dining room floor, nearly bending himself in half to make it shine in precisely the manner he was asked. Sweat dribbled down his face and neck. He was fantasizing about the many ways in which he could escape when two pale white feet appeared in front of him.

“My lord.” He said, not looking up from his work.

“Alexander, what on earth are you doing?”

“Cleaning the dining room floor as I was directed, sir.” He kept his eyes downcast and pushed further with his work.

“Well stop that and get dressed in your robes. We have business to attend to, and I can’t have you looking like the disaster you already are.”

“Well not with that attitude.” He muttered, tossing the cloth over his shoulder and moving to place everything under the kitchen sink, “What exactly is this business, sir?”

“New initiates to the death eater ranks, of course. Now change quickly, make yourself presentable. We need to leave in 10 minutes. Hurry now, boy, before I get impatient!”

“Sir, I really don’t think I need to come to this. Seeing some as disheveled as myself could...I don’t know, turn off the candidates somehow.”

“ _ Langlock _ . That’s for arguing. I’m truly beginning to mistrust you. Azkaban changed you. Now go.”

…………………………………………………………………………………….

They apparated on to the rickety staircase of Borgin and Burkes. He nearly fell off of the thin slab of wood. Voldemort smirked at his lack of grace. The staircase spiraled quite far upward, with the occasional loose nail or missing board. As they moved further up, he began to notice drops of fresh blood littering the path. These drops turned to smear and eventual puddles as the door came closer. They rounded one more set, and the explanation stood before. Fenrir Greyback was guarding the room. 

“My lord,” he bowed, “they are waiting inside. A few tried to run off, but I managed to stop them quite easily.”

“Good, good. Greyback, hold onto this for me,” He thrust Alex into Fenrir’s hands, “It shouldn’t, but if it starts to talk, just gag it. Just make sure it doesn’t run off. Come now, let’s meet the initiates.” He pushed open the door. Greyback yanked me close to him.

“Hopefully, you’re better behaved than the last time, when you were younger. I’d hate to wreck that pretty face,” He raked a claw along my cheek, leaving blood behind, “wonder what you’ve been reduced to; prisoner, servant…”

“The latter.” I choked out, my tongue unsticking from the roof of my mouth. That curse wore off quicker than Alex thought. Before Greyback could react, the Dark Lord called to him from the room.

“Alexander, is that your voice?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Actually, Greyback, bring him here, don’t gag him yet.” He was pushed through the door so hard that he fell, unable to stop himself from landing on his face.

“Help him up.” Voldemort ordered.

Fenrir obeyed, helping Alex to stand. He took my usual place beside his master and surveyed the line of initiates. A few were coated in blood from clear escape attempts. Not everyone was here by choice. The ages ranged from what appeared to be 17 to mid-50’s. There were only five women, all of whom looked positively terrified. The remaining men (about 20) looked just as frightened, if not worse. It was the most diverse grouping Alex had ever seen. As he looked the line up and down, one face stuck out at him; A pale, blond haired, grey eyed boy, about Alex’s age. Alex stared at him, but he wouldn’t pick up his head. Then, his fascination with him made sense. It was Draco. He clenched my jaw, not allowing himself to do so much as breathe until the Dark Lord addressed him.

“Alexander, how long have you been serving me?”

“In your service specifically, or just generally with the death eaters?”

“Generally.”

“17 years, sir.”

“When did you receive your dark mark?”

“On my 11th birthday, sir.”

“Take off your top, Alexander.”

“Sir?”

“These people need to see what the utmost of servitude looks like, and however unfortunate it may be, that is what you are.”

Alex began to strip once more as Voldemort spieled on about the honor, integrity, and dignity of this “profession”, a speech Alex had heard so many times he had it memorized, not to mention felt the irony of. He felt violated as 25 strangers stared at his bare chest. Suddenly, his many tattoos and scars from Azkaban were marks of dishonor. His dark mark felt as though it was singeing off layers of skin. The Malfoy crest seared in the center, seeming to shine brighter than the rest. Draco gasped slightly when he saw it, his eyes filled with confusion and a mild sympathy. He knew a little too well what it looked like when Alex was in pain. The Dark Lord noticed Draco’s reaction. 

“Now, don’t tell me you pity the boy, Draco.”

“No sir, I was just unaware of my crest on him. I hadn’t seen that until today, sir.”

“I thought your family’s possession of Alexander pleased you. Am I wrong?”

“No sir, not at all. I was just...surprised, that’s all.” The Dark Lord glanced between them, Alex’s eyes downward and Draco’s averted. He was very obviously suspicious, but seemed to dismiss the feeling for the time being. 

“Alexander has been involved with dark magic since he was very young. Every mark, every scar, every tattoo tells his story. Nearly every tattoo on his front, exempting the Malfoy crest, is from his recent stay in Azkaban during which he remained loyal and did not reveal a single piece of information. He remained faithful to this precious order,” he spun Alex around so his back faced the initiates, “his shoulders bear the marks of those whom he has served; myself, Severus Snape, and the Malfoy family. He has served here longer than anyone else, besides myself. But, even the mighty, fall,” he punched the crest on his chest as hard as he could, causing Alex to fall over in agony, “even my right hand serves severe punishment sentences, worse than most in fact. He accepts it, and does not argue, for the most part. This is the level of obedience and humility I expect from all of you. Greyback, gag him, leave the shirt off. Even when he looks like a twig, it’s still nice to look at.” Alex’s eyes narrowed. Was he really being objectified? Now?

Voldemort continued to speak as Greyback crushed Alex’s spine with his boot and wrenched his arms behind me. A filthy piece of cloth was substituted for an actual gag and forced into his mouth. Alex was dragged backward and held tightly by Fenrir as he struggled. 

The initiation process was difficult to watch. Each person had to approach their new master, state their full name, blood status, and pledges of loyalty. Then, they were handed a blade and told to cut a small slit in their hand. The Dark Lord then dipped the tip of his wand into their cut and drew the dark mark in blood on their left forearm. The candidate typically passed out afterwards, the spell being too powerful for most to handle. Draco was included in this group of the weak. Once all of the people had been marked, Alex was released to his master who had my clothes in hand. They began their retreat down the staircase when he pressed Alex against the railing and ripped out the cloth.

“Why did Malfoy react that way? Why did you look away? Tell me boy. I know that you know. I will violate your mind if need be.” 

Alex feared for his life at that moment. If he told the Dark Lord the truth, both Draco and Alex could be killed, or at the very least tortured heavily and ridiculed. If he lied, Voldemort would know. But if Alex lied, he could spare Draco for longer. His heart felt like it was going to beat its way out of his chest. His brain was screaming at him, logic fighting fear. He felt the blood rush to his cheeks. His lungs wanted to explode out of his chest. He knew what he needed to do. He had to lie. However much punishment he would endure, it could save Draco’s life.

“I don’t know, sir.” Alex was slapped hard. He winced but stood his ground. The two locked eyes, and Voldemort could see that Alex wouldn’t concede without a fight. He pulled Alex as near to him as he could. Alex could feel his breath in his eyes.

“We’ll see about that boy.”


	5. Collapsed

They apparated into a clearing in the forest behind Malfoy Manor. Alex was pushed away from Voldemort, only to rip him back by the rope around his wrists. Alex was brutally tossed to the ground, and forced onto his knees, wrists still bound behind his.The Dark Lord kneeled before him and pressed his hand into the crest on Alex’s chest, making him scream in anguish. His fist connected with Alex’s gut. The boy doubled over, tucking his head into his chest and praying that it would stop. Voldemort picked up Alex’s head in his hand. He stared Alex directly in the eyes, hatred burning deep within his own.

“You are lying to me Alexander. I know there is something between you and Draco. I do not have the authority as a guest in this house to punish him, but I certainly have more than enough power over you. I do not have an issue with your preference for men, but you have been dishonest and disrespectful. I have noticed how distracted you’ve been recently. You are not driven or focused as you were previously. Never have I seen you truly happy, and I do not like it. Your relationship with Mr. Malfoy is over. Your relationship with anyone is over, And you will obey. You are aware of the consequences.” His wand transfigured into a long whip. He rose and stared down at Alex. “Your head is held too high. You have dishonored yourself. You do not deserve anything but pain.”

Alex felt the skin on his back and shoulders slice open with the first crack. Voldemort continued to beat him incessantly for what seemed to be an eon. His back and arms burned in pain, blood flowing like water from a faucet. He refused to cry out, to give him the satisfaction. The stinging was nearly unbearable. Each fresh lash hurt worse than the last. But finally, the beating ended. Alex felt his master’s robes slide over his cowering form.

“I’m done with you for the day, Black. You’re of little use to me in this condition. I’ll be impressed if you can even pick yourself up off of the ground. If I don’t see you in the house by morning, I’ll assume you haven’t moved.”

* * *

Alex faded in and out of consciousness for hours, dreams mixing with reality. He could feel the blood pooling around him, coating him in dark, red liquid. Resigning to himself that this could be the end was the easier part. The hard part was having the time to realize that he had regrets. What was the last thing he said to Draco? Probably something dickish. But of course what he would remember would be Alex standing helpless in front of the Dark Lord. He had never had a chance to reconcile with his father between Azkaban and his death. His own brother, not that Alex cared much for him, cared for me, believing Alex was a victim. He’d killed hundreds of people without a second of remorse.Now all of their names floated back to him. A thousand people he’d never apologize to. He began to lose himself in his own madness, switching between moments of clarity to moments of horror.

Everything had begun to fade. His life was ending. He heard a voice calling his name. He assumed he was hallucinating as no one knew or even suspected he was here. 

“Alex! Alex, where are you?” Draco called somewhere in the distance. He tried to call back in the blind hope that the voice was real. A strangled cry came from the back of his throat. Draco’s feet crunched the dead leaves that remained from the previous fall. He dropped to his knees and held Alex’s face lovingly in his hands. 

“Oh my god Alex. What happened? Who did this?”

Alex couldn’t speak. His mouth was too dry and crying out had expended any little bit of life that remained in his throat. Draco seemed to figure this out and tried to help him to his feet. He fell instantly, far too weak to stand. Draco scooped him up in his arms, instantly soaking his white shirt in blood. Alex curled close to him, taking in his warmth and comfort. He carried Alex up to the house as carefully and discreetly as he could.

They crossed the threshold of one of the back servant doors that lead into a laundry room. Draco grabbed a towel off of the rack and placed it gingerly against Alex’s wounds. Alex whimpered slightly but did not protest. While whispering soothing words into my ear, he carried Alex through the house, carefully avoiding eye contact with other people roaming about and shielding his face from view. Finally, the couple reached Draco’s bedroom. As best he could, Draco laid Alex down the floor on top of the towel. Alex felt his soaked pants come off as well as his socks and shoes. Cool water ran through the lash marks, flushing out the dirt and grime. Draco began muttering every healing incantation he knew as fast as he could. One by one, the gashes shut, healing into ugly scars but healing nonetheless. The pain began to subside, the burning reducing to a sting. Gently, Alex was flipped onto his back. The few slices on his front shut quickly. He began to feel slightly stronger.

“Think you can stand now?” An outstretched hand appeared in front of Alex’s face. Shakily, he rose. putting most of his weight on Draco. 

He smiled a little, “Bathroom? Get that blood off of your face?” Alex nodded meekly and allowed Draco to help him down the hallway.

* * *

“What do you mean you saw Alexander?” Voldemort’s voice carried through the door of Alex’s room,”Where did you see him? Answer me!” With whom he was speaking, Alex did not know. He was still laying on his bed, having barely moved or slept since Draco had laid him there last night, post pass out. His injuries may have been gone, but the pain still lingered. Its intensity varied from minute to minute, causing him to cry out one and be calm the next. He mentally prepared himself for screaming and questioning and more pain when the Dark Lord inevitably burst into his bedroom. Sure enough, the knob began to turn.

“How the hell are you still breathing?”

“A ‘hello, how are you’ would suffice.”

“Don’t even begin to cross me, boy. How did you manage to get yourself back here after I left your corpse on the forest floor?”

“I’m stronger than I look,” Alex lied, knowing he would see directly through it. He gave Alex a deadly glare, “Okay, okay Draco carried me out of the woods. Don’t punish him for this please. It was probably my fault somehow.”

“That is the most honest you have been with me since you were a child. Are you aware of the time, Alexander?”

“Umm, 12:30 I believe.” Alex furrowed his brow at the odd request.

“Can you stand?” Alex stood shakily, putting all of his weight on the bed frame, “Good. Dress and meet me in the drawing room as quickly as possible.”

“Sir, I need help. Can I please have Draco help me? Otherwise, you’ll be waiting all day for me to put my pants on.” He considered Alex for a moment, probably wondering why and how he had the audacity to make such a request.

“Fine. You have 15 minutes.” His door was slammed, and he fell against the bed, weak from just a minute of standing. How was he going to survive the day? His door opened again.

“Can I come in?” Draco’s head popped through the crack. Alex nodded and Draco came to say to stand beside him, “How are you feeling?”

“Shitty. Help me get dressed, will you?” Alex’s mood was evident in his tone of voice. Draco nodded and gathered a t-shirt and jeans from the dresser. Alex slid uncomfortably into the stiff pants, pain shooting through his legs. His knees buckled underneath him. He crashed to the floor. He swore angrily and punched the bed frame. Draco kneeled next to him, inching the jeans the rest of the way up his waist, buttoning them at the top. He kissed Alex’s forehead gently, then pulled the black t-shirt over his head. He helped Alex back onto the bed and put his shoes on for him.

“I guess my healing job was a tad shitty, huh?” Draco asked. Alex smiled a little, shaking his head. 

“Not your fault. I don’t heal easily, never have.” Draco helped him to stand and draped Alex’s arm around his shoulder.

“Let’s go before he finds another reason to kill you.” The two of them hobbled awkwardly down the hall. At least they didn’t have to fumble with the stairs. 

Draco and Alex entered the room. He placed Alex in one of the chairs surrounding the meeting table and backed away to stand with his mother. Bellatrix and Severus were also there, all watching Alex with the intensity of lions on the prowl. Voldemort glared at him, seemingly unhappy with his appearance.

“Where is your uniform?” He sneered.

“Well, you have the top parts, robes, shirt and all, and the pants and shoes are completely soaked in blood. This was the only clothing I had access to, sir.”

An angry snarl passed his lips, but for some reason, he withheld his temper.

“We are here to discuss the fate of Alexander. His period of punishment is scheduled to finish on the first of September, one week from yesterday. However his release depends on his performance and obedience. Has his performance been satisfactory?” The Dark Lord addressed the Malfoys and Bellatrix. No one said anything, either thinking of how to help Alex or how to ruin his life. 

“My lord,” Bellatrix began, “I cannot honestly say I had any issues with Alexander’s service, no matter how much I dislike him. He was, for once, attentive, quiet, obedient, and useful. I believe he deserves a timely release.”

“I agree with Bellatrix completely, my lord,” Narcissa added, smiling kindly at Alex, “never has someone in your service deserved their freedom more than Alex.” Alex smiled slightly at Narcissa through the pain. He nodded towards Bellatrix as a show of his appreciation. 

“Draco, once again, you are much too quiet” Voldemort looked at him.

“I do not believe I’m entitled to an opinion on this matter, sir, as a result of last night’s events.”

“You are wise, Malfoy. Much smarter than your father. I also agree with Narcissa and Bella. Alexander’s service was satisfactory, to say the least. But in light of recent events, I do not believe he deserves his freedom. I have deliberated with Severus over this little issue. Alexander will be partially released, with several conditions. One, he will have to serve Severus, as a type of repentance. Second, his lessons from me will continue at a, let’s say more intense, rate. Finally, and this my favorite part, he will be attending Hogwarts as a spy and assisting in the murder of Albus Dumbledore.”

“Assisting?” Alex sprang to his feet, ignoring the pain, “Sir, I’m supposed to do this alone. Completely, 100% alone. You promised this to me years ago.

“Things changed when you disappeared. Draco got your job. You and he will work together. Don’t question me. Do you accept these terms?”

“What happens if he says no?” Draco asked.

“It’s not like I really have a choice. I guess I can’t negotiate either?” Alex raised his eyebrows at the Dark Lord who nodded in agreement, “Fine, I agree. Let’s just get this over with. What now?”

“Well I suppose you need robes and books and such. Narcissa, you were planning on taking Draco to Diagon Alley today, correct? Good. Alexander will accompany the two of you, as servant not friend or ward. You will depart in half an hour.”

“Wait, I’m a criminal on the run from Azkaban…” Alex remarked, looking confused.

“This might be of interest to you.” Narcissa pulled a copy of the Daily Prophet out from behind her. A small headline on the front page proclaimed his exoneration. Apparently Dumbledore had claimed responsibility for his release and he was acquitted entirely.

“Well that’s shocking, considering the mound of evidence against me.” Alex shrugged, tossing the paper on the table.

“I agree, but it makes our situation easier. Go put your robes on Alexander and get ready to leave. You as well, Draco.” Voldemort ordered. Draco rushed to help Alex up from the table, but Alex had already managed to stand on his own. The two walked out of the room, Alex with a pit in his stomach. 


	6. Deception

“You know, this may be the only time I’ve ever hated you,” Alex grumbled as he followed Draco down the winding streets of Diagon Alley, carrying all of the shopping bags.

“It’s not my fault you managed to piss off the Dark Lord, Black,” Draco spat with a smirk. He fell back from his mother, “We have appearances to maintain, idiot.”

“Right, I have to be obedient and subordinate, and you have to be an asshole.” 

“Don’t test me.” Alex raised his hands in defeat and followed Draco to Madame Malkin’s. Narcissa spoke with the witch about their needs while Alex hung behind Draco. Alex was fitted for his robes immediately, his small frame being apparently simple to size. He was then literally pushed to the side and into the wall. His head rested against the wall, and he let out a sigh. His eyes wandered aimlessly around the shop, occasionally resting on Draco. Watching him bicker with the seamstress was entertaining for a short while. The door pushed open, letting warm air into the freezing shop.

“I’m not a child, in case you haven’t noticed, Mother. I am perfectly capable of doing my shopping on my own.” Narcissa and Draco had apparently been arguing over her accompanying us out, a discussion Alex thought had ceased when the group left the manor. Draco went to look at himself in the mirror, seemingly admiring his new robes. Alex rolled my eyes at his conceit. Three pairs of legs came into his peripheral vision.

“Alex?” A girl’s voice entered Alex’s ears. Hermione Granger stood in front of him, shock covering her face. Alex couldn’t speak, he was so stunned. She grabbed his hands and kissed him on the cheek. A sound of surprise escaped Alex’s lips, and Draco turned to look for the source. His eyes narrowed.

“If you’re wondering what that smell is, Mother, a mudblood just walked in. But I’d really just like to know why she’s touching our property.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Malfoy?” Harry asked, fists balling at his sides.

“I guess Alexander doesn’t keep in touch. Let’s just say events transpired and now your brother belongs to me. Funny how these things happen.” Draco’s hand grazed his face briefly before delivering a sharp slap. Alex glared at him. 

“Sir,” Alex began sarcastically, hating every word that was about to pass through his lips, “may I have a moment in private with Miss Granger, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley? I request only a short time. Please.” His voice dripped with sarcasm, but his eyes pleaded with Draco until he nodded disdainfully and watched me go. Alex led the group into a corner out of sight. Hermione embraced him tightly. Harry waited until she was done and wrapped his arms around his half-brother. 

“Alex, I...I thought you were dead. You never answered…” Alex silenced Hermione with a finger to her lips.

“Yes, yes I know and I’m sorry. But right now, I need you all to listen, and listen carefully. First of all, I am completely fine. Ignore the cuts and scars, I’m fine. After the ministry battle with the Dark Lord, I ran. The ministry found me, captured me, and sent me to Azkaban. So yes, I am technically an escaped convict but somehow Dumbledore got me acquitted. I wish I could explain to you how. I belong to the Malfoy’s for one more week and then everything goes back to normal. I’ll be at Hogwarts this year…” Draco’s call echoed through the walls, “Damn, I can’t spare anymore time. I’ll see you next week.” Alex began to turn away, but Hermione kissed him on the cheek once more. Alex smiled weakly, then went to return to his “master” once more.

“Good boy, Black. You actually listened.” The argument between the three boys continued when they reentered. Alex wasn’t paying much attention until Narcissa made a statement about Dumbledore’s future lack of protection. Harry’s retort was certainly unappreciated. Ron, Hermione and Alex laughed a little, but Draco pulled his wand on Harry. 

“Don’t you dare talk to my mother that way, Potter!”

“It’s alright, Draco. I expect Potter will be united with dear Sirius before I am united with Lucius.” Harry locked eyes with Alex as he raised his wand. Alex supposed he should look angry too, but that wasn’t too hard. Hermione protested the fight naturally, reminding Harry of how much trouble he would get into. Madame Malkin then decided to get in the way of this altercation by trying to fix the left sleeve of Draco’s robes, right near his marked arm. He yelped in pain.

“Mother, I don’t think I want these anymore.” He ripped them over his head and strode over to me, shoving Alex’s new robes into one of the other bags and pulled him out of the shop. Alex dug his heels into the ground, making it appear that he wanted to remain with the Gryffindor trio. He’d built up a false face of loyalty that no one had yet uncovered. Draco glared at him, pulling as hard as he could. Unfortunately for him, Alex was the stronger of the two of them. Alex smirked as he watched Draco struggle. His eyes were drawn to the wand dropping into Draco's hand from his sleeve. Alex raised his eyebrows at him, wondering if Draco would really curse him. As he began to raise the wand, Alex conceded and followed him out of the shop, not being particularly keen on getting hexed. 

“Alex, what the hell?” Draco rounded on him, pushing him into a secluded alleyway.

“Remember what you said about keeping up appearances?” 

“So?”

“Those three believe that I’m here against my will. If I hadn’t put up a fight, they would have been suspicious. I’ve never really been one to submit to someone else, have I?”

“You frustrate me,” Draco scoffed, “now come with me to Borgin and Burkes. I want to check on the cabinet. Mother will get the rest of your supplies.” We stepped back into the daylight and curved along the cobblestone until we reached Knockturn Alley. The first thing that hit Alex was the smell. The neighborhood reeked of unwashed bodies, smoke, and potions gone wrong. He gagged as the dark magic dabblers skittered in front of me. Draco tensed next to him. He was too clean cut for this place, especially without his father. Alex, at least, had an Azkaban serial number printed on his neck. He casually rolled up his sleeves, displaying his dark mark. Draco followed suit. The crowd parted slightly. 

The couple entered Borgin and Burkes. If there was somewhere where appearances were important, it was here. Alex held the door for Draco and followed behind him, arms behind his back and head pointed down towards the floor. Mr. Borgin looked up and audibly sighed before plastering a fake smile on his face.

“Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Black, pleasure to see you both. How may I help you today?”

“I’d like to check on the cabinet.” Draco said immediately, heading to the staircase. Borgin scurried to follow him, Alex once again bringing up the rear. He didn’t care much for the vanishing cabinet plan, but he held his tongue. It was a waste to argue with Draco over this. 

Alex took his place against the wall while Draco inspected the cabinet, taking in every inch of it. Mr. Borgin left them alone after ten minutes, closing the door behind him

“I don’t think you’re going to be able to fix it.” Alex got up from the wall and came to stand next to Draco, kissing him on the cheek. 

“I have to see the one at Hogwarts before we can determine that.” Draco mumbled, continuing to open and shut the door and touch the cabinet.

“Well touching it isn't going to solve your problem. Bellatrix said she would help you once we’re back at school. Plus I’m sure Snape will send me through the cabinet first to make sure it doesn’t kill people.” Alex rolled his eyes. Draco laughed quietly. 

“I’m going to screw this up.”

“If you think I’m going to let that happen, you’re on some kind of drugs. Come on, we should probably meet back up with your mother.” 


End file.
